


don't take this seriously

by ppperoxideprincess



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: I'm posting it for the lolz, This is actually so fucking bad I'm so sorry, dream - Freeform, shitpost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 14:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13460271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ppperoxideprincess/pseuds/ppperoxideprincess
Summary: i remember in 7th grade i was staying over at my dad's apartment and i fell asleep on the floor and i woke up out of this dream and wrote it all downthat's alli fixed the spelling errors and i'm posting it for the lolzbye





	don't take this seriously

"Mom, you can't just ask the receptionist if they're staying here.." I said, glancing around the hotel lobby. I sat down on one of the poufy couches, sighing. After a moment of unsuccessfully haggling the check in agent, her and my stepdad John turned and walked back to me. "No luck.. Sorry. Guess we'll just have to wait it out," said John. "Hey, there's a guy with that poufy hair right behind you, is that one of 'em?" mom said in a hushed voice. Doubtfully, I turned and looked at the man on the chair behind me. I couldn't see his face, but his hair looked so familiar... I stood up and stepped to the side to get a better view before freezing in my tracks. 

Pete Wentz...

Pete Wentz was right in front of me.

I swept the rest of the room with my eyes before realizing that Andy, Joe, and Patrick were all sitting there as well. They continued chatting with each other until they realized that I was staring. They stopped, silent, and stared back at me until I felt compelled to speak. "You're.. You're fall out boy.." I stammered, tearing up. "Yeah, we are..!" Patrick said, grinning a little. "I love your music so much.." I mumbled, feeling my own body shaking with happiness. "Aw, thank you.." chimed in Andy and Joe at the same time. I nodded, stepping towards them a tiny bit, tears spilling down my cheeks. Patrick, who was closest to me, stepped forward and hugged me and I leaned into him, sniffling and shaking. "Would you like us to sign something..?" Pete asked from his seat behind Trick. I nodded again, feeling unable to speak. Patrick let go of me and I fished inside my bag for my sketchbook and a pen. Patrick had turned back to Andy and Joe and was saying something, so I gingerly stepped over to Pete. He took the sketchbook from my hands and started to sign his name towards the bottom of a page. "Um.." he looked at me, saying, "Hm?". I forced my brain to remember the words my friend had told me to say. "It.. It would mean a lot to me if you could.. Could write detox-" I paused as he started to write the word. Coughing, I made myself finish my sentence. "Detox just to retox.. I want to get it tattooed.. On my arm.." He glanced up at me and I traced my finger across my elbow on my right hand. "Right here.. On my pulse point,". I bit my lip, wondering if he would notice that I was referencing his pulse trick that he'd described in Gray. I instantly saw the recognition on his face and smiled to myself, knowing that he had understood. He turned back to the page and finished writing out the sentence for my tattoo, before flipping the page. He scribbled out a note, which I couldn't read clearly as he was writing, but I caught the phrases "please never try anything" "it's never worth it" and "nobody's ever asked me to write that phrase" "I'm just a little worried.. I care about you,". I felt an odd type of nausea inside.. But also an unnerving calm. Pete knew.. He understood, he knew EVERYTHING I had been thinking, doing, feeling... He knew, and cared. And worried.

"Here you go," he said, flipping the book shut and handing it to me with a small smile. "Thank you.." I said quietly, and then went to ask Patrick, Andy, and Joe, who all signed pages with standard messages. ("We love you", "thanks for being a fan,".. You know.)

/a few things happened and somehow their tourbus was broken and they had to stay at our house. idk. don't ask. it was a dream./

The guys were sitting in our kitchen and I paced in the livingroom, not wanting to try to go talk to them and end up sounding like a stuttering idiot. Soon enough, there was a knock on my door and my friend was here. I poked my head in the kitchen and mumbled awkwardly, "I'll be right back.. yanno, um, band practice..." I walked outside in the rain. "Hey Kelly..!" I said, grinning. "Hey! You ready?" she asked, grinning. "Yeah.. Lets go." We walked across the yard to our little 'stage'. 

I plugged in my guitar and began playing the riff to one of our songs. We weren't much - just her, an angelic singer, and me, a mediocre guitarist but hey.. It was fun, and we tried. We practiced some of our songs and some of our Fall Out Boy covers. At one point, I saw the guys from the band watching us playing. I swallowed my nerves and concentrated on the high pitched whine of my guitar strings. 

After we finished, it was raining, so I slipped out of my guitar strap and headed inside. Patrick walked out to the stage, tossing a thumbs up at Kelly. "Hi, I'm Patrick.. You're an amazing singer..." I heard him say as I went inside, chuckling to myself at the look of amazement on her face. Andy, Joe, and Pete were in the kitchen with my parents, who were talking enthusiastically about music to Andy. Joe was fully engaged in his phone, and Pete was seemingly trying to get my attention (which he didn't have to TRY to do - as I was staring at him anyway. Because beauty.)

"Hey.. When you get a chance.." he said quietly, "...just, um.." he glanced at my parents before clearing his throat and saying vaguely, "uh, tell me.". My mother, who notices everything, raised her eyebrow at me and said "Tell him what?". I bit my lip and said to her, "He meant, tell me why I asked him to write out a phrase for me. And it's just, because that's my favorite Fall Out Boy song,". "Oh.. Okay," she said, accepting my answer. I nodded and glanced at Peter as if telling him 'that's not all'. He nodded a tiny bit, his face reflecting concern and confusion. "I just wanted to say.." everyone in the room looked at me. "Thank you.. For your music,". They smiled at me, and Joe said "Of course.. Thank you for listening to it,". 

[this is where I woke up but yolo imma finish the story]

Pete stood up suddenly. "Do you have a bathroom I could use?" He asked. "Sure, follow me..." I said, walking out towards the bathroom. "Right here," I pointed at a door. He ignored me and stepped outside, beckoning for me to follow him. We sat down on the pavement, looking up at the sky. Across the street, we could still see Patrick and Kelly talking and flirting. I smiled a little, knowing how happy she must be. "So.. why did you really ask me to write that phrase?" He asked, breaking the silence. "Well.. Because that's life. Detox just to retox. You get better, then you fall back. It might be days, weeks, months, years, but you always fall back. Life is this constant rollercoaster between getting better and getting worse. That's how it is. An unending cycle of detox, retox, repeat. It never stops, you're never always fucked up and you're never always okay. It's a cycle, and it's my life," I answered. He just looked at me, his eyes expressing the understanding, the fact that we had been through all the same things, all the same emotions, addictions, depressions, and obsessions. The same highs and the same lows. "But.. Don't forget Patrick," he said. I frowned, confused. "Wh..?". "Patrick.. Don't forget Patrick's lyrics. Sometimes before it gets better the darkness gets bigger," he said, wrapping his arm around me. "But I don't know how much more darkness I can take... It's at it's biggest, Pete...". "I know.. Then there's nothing left for it to do than get better.". He pulled me into his lap, hugging me. "So now it's gonna get better,".

**Author's Note:**

> shitpost extraordinaire


End file.
